Love Me for Myself
by Lovefrombooks7
Summary: The scene in CoLS where Jace is himself. The twist? This is told in our dear, tortured Jace's PoV.


**Disclaimer: I own almost nothing here. The characters, dialogue, all that jazz belong to Cassandra Clare. Sadly, I'm not her.** **Anyways, this is that scene in CoLS (Yea, MAJOR SPOILERS) where Jace is himself, just in his point of view. I've been told I have something like this creepy power of reading Jace's mind. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :) Reviews greatly appreciated, too!**

"Do I need to ask your permission?" Jace shot back at Sebastian. He hated him with everything in him, but he couldn't let it all through now. Not now. Internally, he kicked himself for not hiding it better, even then.  
"No, I suppose if you want to barge in there and gaze wistfully at her sleeping face, go right ahead. I'll never understand why-" Jace was somewhat pleased at his surprise, despite his situation.  
"No, you never will." He did not, and will not ever have the capacity to understand love. And he loved Clary even more than he hated her brother. Before he could reply, he started to Clary's room.  
Clary. His beautiful Clary. She blinked awake and made a question as to what was happening. Suddenly he was at her bedside. "Clary." He was on his knees, desperate for her. "Clary, it's me. It's me." He saw her green eyes widen, and met the gaze of her emerald eyes. He was suddenly afraid she wouldn't believe him. He was vaguely aware of his eyebrows moving together. "Please." he begged her. "Please believe me."

"How?"

She believed him. He felt some of the crushing weight lift off his shoulders. She believed him. Then he remembered everything else, cut her off from saying anything else. He shushed her and she started to sit up; he pushed her back by her shoulders, wincing when she grabbed his sleeve. "Don't leave me." Guilt. Pain. Longing. He couldn't not be with her. He had to be with her, wanted all the time in the world with her, and he was himself again. But I could be him any minute again, he thought to himself bitterly. He had to be with Clary. He gave her instructions to meet in his room, telling her not to let Sebastian hear her. He couldn't hear her. Not now, not ever, but especially not tonight. He'd have to hope for the best, though he knew it was hopeless, when it came to any other time. She asked for his stele and held her hand out. After a moment's hesitation, he handed it to her. Their hands touched, and it sent a shock of electric through him. Clary. He wanted to touch her more, love her more, but his hand had already drawn away. Breathing rapidly, he reached for the door behind him, stepping out of her room, watching her until the last second the door closed. His Clary. He forced himself upstairs up to his bedroom, away from the girl he loved more than anything else. When he got to his room, he kicked off his boots and socks, pulled off his coat that hid his injuries from Sebastian, rolled up the sleeve of his dominant hand, and bandaged it, hardly aware of what he was doing as he was doing it.  
And Clary was back. She said his name, then started toward him. It took unbelievable control to stop her, then pull off his shirt, which was now little more than ripped, bloodstained cloth. He saw her green eyes widen a bit as she moved her hand to her chest, where Lilith's rune had been damaged on him. "Oh."  
He replied flatly. "Yeah. Oh. This won't last, Clary. Me being myself again, I mean. Only as long as this hasn't healed."  
"I-" She stammered. "I wondered, before-while you were sleeping-I thought about cutting the rune like I did when we fought Lilith. But I was afraid Sebastian would feel it."  
"He would have. He didn't feel this because it was made with a pugio-a dagger seethed in angel blood. They're incredibly rare; I've never even seen one before." He pushed his hair back. Why hadn't she cut him? It was the perfectly logical thing to do. "The blade turned to hot ash after it touched me, but it did the damage it needed to do." She was concerned for him, which just softened him even more to her.  
"Clary." He was whispering now. "This-it'll take longer than an ordinary cut to heal... but not forever. And then I'll be him again." She wanted to know how much time, but he had no idea. "-I needed to be with you. Like this, like myself, for as long as I could." He reached for her, as though that action in and of itself would cause her to forgive him. Forgive him of everything he's done in that other form of himself, the one that he hated. The one that also loved Clary, but not as much as he possibly could, but got to have her, anyways. The way he had always wanted to have her. He raised his hand to her, doubtful she'd take it. Then she was running across the room to him, jumping at him. Relief and love flooded all his thoughts away as her caught her and spun her up, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He felt her inhale. "It's you. It's really you." He looked at her and traced a line along her face gently, loving her, desperate for her, holding her tight. "I missed you. I missed you so much." He closed his eyes and she put her hand to his cheek, then her leaned into her hand. He felt tears run down his face, and, remarkably, didn't care. He was with his Clary. He was himself with his Clary, who loved him back. "It's not your fault." And she didn't blame him. He felt another tear fall as she kissed his cheek. He held her tight, taking her in. The fact that she loved him still and forgave him and didn't blame him for anything. He felt her kiss his cheekbone, his jaw, and then his lips. He hesitated at first, then kissed her back, needing her kiss. She loves me still. He wound his fingers in her fiery curls, deepening the kiss. She's kissing me. She still loves me. He pulled her up off the floor and laid her on his bed, sliding over her, kissing her more. Her hands were running over him now, feeling his muscles and scars and cuts. His hands found the bottom of her top and he pulled it off as she stretched to help him. Then they were kissing fiercely, wanting everything from each other, pulling closer even though they were already flesh against each other, winding tighter into each other. They were hungry for each other, needing each other, hands sliding over each other. He broke off to kiss her neck, her collarbones, the star on her shoulder that he also had, marking them as Shadowhunters who'd seen an angel. And she dug her nails into him, brushed her knuckles over his star-shaped mark. He shuddered when she kissed the damaged rune that bound him to Sebastian, desire for her driving him insane. She put her legs around him, ankles locking at the small of his back, and he groaned helplessly against her lips, digging his fingers into her hips. Angel, he wanted her. Every cell in him was screaming for her, and she was planning on satisfying him. He pulled away shakily. "Clary, I can't... If we don't stop now, we won't be able to." She was surprised. "Don't you want to?" His heart was pounding, half of him screaming for the logical half of him to shut up and go with Clary. Go all the way with Clary. She wanted it, too.  
"Yes, it's just I've never-" She cut him off, misinterpreting him, still surprised.  
"You haven't? Done this before?"  
He took a breath, as though filling his lungs with oxygen would build his confidence. "I have." He looked at her, expecting to see something. He assumed she'd be disgusted or disapproving. If he was the luckiest man alive, which he already knew he wasn't, he felt a flicker of hope in search of jealousy. She met his gaze evenly. He reassured the disgust or disapproving she was supposedly feeling, though mostly for himself. "But not when it mattered." His fingers brushed against her cheek. "I don't even know how..."  
She laughed lightly as she misinterpreted him again. "I think it's just been established that you do."  
He took her hand and held it close to his face. "That's not what I meant. I want you, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. But I..." He swallowed, as though that action would push down his desire for what would inevitably damage their relationship in the long run. "Name of the Angel I'm gonna kick myself for this later." She demanded that he shouldn't protect her. "-I'm not being self-sacrificing. I'm... jealous." She didn't understand again. He fumbled over the words to answer her. The Jace Sebastian controls. Jace Wayland. Jace Morgenstern.  
"At the club... last night..." He dropped his head into her shoulder, hating himself. Or the other himself. He did that to his Clary. He would never do that. Never make her go any farther than she's comfortable with. And that simply wasn't the real him. He hated that thing that took his body and his name. But mostly his Clary. She belonged to Jace Lightwood. "I remember everything about last night, and it makes me crazy, because it was me but it wasn't. When we're together, I want it to be the real you. The real me."  
"Isn't that what we are now?"  
"Yes." He kissed her again, which was much better for building up confidence for words than a deep breath. "But for how long? I could turn back into him any minute. I couldn't do that to you. To us." He was bitter now, hating the creature who took his Clary. "I don't even know how you can stand it, being around this thing that isn't me-"  
"Even if you go back to being that in five minutes, it would have been worth it, just to be with you like this again. Not to have it end on that rooftop. Because this is you, and even that other you-there's pieces of the real you in there. It's like I'm looking through a blurred window at you, but it's not the real you. And at least I know now."  
"What do you mean?" His hands tightened on her shoulders, still desperate for her, crazy for her. "What do you mean at least you know?"  
She inhaled deeply. "Jace, when we were first together, like really together, you were so happy for the first month. And everything we did together was funny and fun and amazing. And then it was just like it just started draining out of you, all that happiness. You didn't want to be with me or look at me-"  
He cut her off, his voice desperate. "I was afraid I was going to hurt you. I thought I was losing my mind."  
"You didn't smile or laugh or joke. And I'm not blaming you. Lilith was creeping into your mind, controlling you. Changing you. But you have to remember- I know how stupid this sounds- I never had a boyfriend before. I thought maybe it was normal. That maybe you were just getting tired of me."  
Tired of Clary? The words hardly made sense as they rang through his mind. He loves her and he always will and he knows that. "I couldn't-"  
"I'm not asking for reassurance. I'm telling you. When you're-like you are, controlled- you seem happy. I came here because I wanted to save you. But I started to wonder what I was saving you from. How could I bring you back to a life you seemed so unhappy with."  
Bewildered, he shook his head. That life, with all the ups and downs, the happiness and sadness, joyfulness and grief and sorrow, was his life. And most of all, Clary. He needed it. The way he was living would strangle every last bit of happiness out of him, the real him would never get his Clary again... That thought put a lump in his throat, but he forced the words past it.  
"Unhappy? I was lucky. So, so lucky. And I couldn't see it." He looked into the shining green eyes that he could so easily lose himself in. "I love you. And you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And now that I know what it's like to be someone else- to lose myself- I want my life back. My family. You. All of it. I want it back."  
Without any of his own consent, he kissed her again, hands tight on her waist, kissing her hungrily, needing her so much it hurt. He slid his hands onto the sheets in attempt to pull himself away, then finally succeeded in drawing back from her with the feeling of one of his vital organs being ripped out of his body as he simply stood there, then fell over, writhing in pain. Though in reality, he was only breathing heavily. "We can't-"  
"Then quit kissing me! In fact-" She pulled away from him and took her tank top. "I'll be right back." She disappeared into the bathroom and he watched after her, sitting there, simply watching the door, longing for her to come out, for what felt like eternity. Realistically, it was probably only a couple minutes.  
Jace finally coaxed himself up to put on a clean shirt, though he didn't button it. He simply ached for his Clary, wanting her so much, even though he wouldn't let himself have her. Couldn't let himself have her. Finally, she came out. He felt her emerald green eyes on him when she entered back into his room. For whatever reason, he didn't feel capable of smiling at that moment, even as she stood in front of him.  
"All right. Take your shirt off." He raised his eyebrows at her, not entirely sure of what to make of the command.  
She replied with a slightly annoyed tone. "I'm not going to attack you. I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning."  
As it so often did, the tension that had built up in him found its way out through an arrogant comment. "Are you sure?" He pulled the shirt off. "Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me."  
"Yeah, well, I don't see anyone here but me. And I just want to clean the blood off you." How disappointing. She didn't fall over him as he leaned back, giving her better access to his hard muscles and golden skin. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back so she could get to work on cleaning his face. And she did. Then his neck, chest, stomach, arms. He watched her as she worked, thoughts racing through his overactive and worried brain.  
"Clary,"  
"Yes?"  
"I won't remember this. When I'm back-like I was, under his control, I won't remember being myself. I won't remember being with you, or talking with you like this. So just tell me-are they alright? My family? Do they know-"  
"What's happened to you? A little. And no, they're not all right." He closed his eyes, hating himself. "I could lie to you. But you should know. They love you so much, and they want you back."  
"Not like this." He still didn't understand how Clary could be with that other him and not hate him. He hardly believed it, but here she was. And here he was. She touched his shoulder.  
"Are you going to tell me what happened? How you got these cuts?"  
Jace took a deep breath, trying fruitlessly to build up his courage, but managed to get the words out, anyway, the crushing fear that Clary would hate him like she should livid in his mind. She should hate him. How could she still possibly love him. "I killed someone." Surely she would now. He watched her as she dropped the cloth she had been cleaning him with and bent to pick it up, guilt and fear and sadness washing over him. "Who?"  
She had to hate him. She couldn't possibly love him anymore. How was he any better than her brother? He forced the words out again. "You met her. The woman you went to visit with Sebastian. The Iron Sister. Magdalena." He twisted away from the girl who he loved with his everything, who couldn't possibly love him back anymore, to show her the cup, then started telling her what happened.  
"Sebastian sent me-sent him- to get this from her tonight. And he also gave me the order to kill her. She wasn't expecting it. She wasn't expecting any violence, just payment and exchange. She thought we were on the same side. I let her hand me the cup, then I took my dagger out and I-" He inhaled sharply, remembering what had happened, pushing the overwhelming fear that Clary hated him to the back of his mind to keep telling her. "I stabbed her. I meant it to be through the heart, but she turned and I missed by inches. She staggered back and grabbed for her work table- there was powered adamas on it- and she threw it at me. I think she meant to blind me. I turned my head away, and when I looked back she had an aegis in her hand. I think I knew what it was. The light of it seared my eyes. I cried out as she drove it toward my chest-I felt a searing pain in the Mark, and then the blade shattered." He laughed bitterly as he looked down. "The funny thing is, if I'd been wearing gear, this wouldn't have happened. I didn't because I didn't think it was worth the bother. I didn't think she could hurt me. But the aegis burned the Mark-Lilith's Mark- and suddenly I was back in myself again, standing there over this dead woman with a bloody dagger in my hand and the Cup in the other."  
"I don't understand. Why did Sebastian tell you to kill her? She was going to give the cup to you. To Sebastian. She said-"  
Jace let out another ragged breath as he cut her off. "Do you remember what Sebastian said about that clock in Old Town Square? In Prague?"  
"That the king had the clock maker's eyes put out after he made it so he could never make anything as beautiful again," Clary was still confused. "But I don't see-"  
"Sebastian wanted Magdalena dead so she could never make anything like this again," Jace tried to clarify. "And so she could never tell."  
She asked what she might tell, then took hold of Jace's chin and moved it so he looked directly at her. He resisted the strong temptation to kiss her. "Jace, what is Sebastian really planning on doing? The story he told in the training room, about wanting to raise demons so he could destroy them-"  
Jace turned grim and bitter. "Sebastian wants to raise demons, all right. One demon in particular. Lilith."  
"But Lilith's dead. Simon destroyed her."  
"Greater Demons don't die. Not really. Greater Demons inhabit the spaces between worlds, the great Void, the emptiness. What Simon did was shatter her power, send her in shreds back to the nothingness she came from. But she'll slowly reform there. Be reborn. It would take centuries, but not if Sebastian helps her."  
Jace could see goosebumps rising on Clary's arms and had to stop himself from pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her, whispering in her ear that everything was going to be alright. Everything obviously wasn't going to be alright, and he didn't pull her close. "Helps her how?"  
"By summoning her back to this world. He wants to mix her blood and his in a cup and create an army of dark Nephilim. He wants to be Jonathan Shadowhunter reincarnated, but on the side of the demons, not the angels."  
"An army of dark Nephilim? The two of you are tough, but you're not exactly an army."  
God, he loved her. "There are about forty or fifty Nephilim who either were once loyal to Valentine, or hate the current direction of the Clave and are open to hearing what Sebastian has to say. He's been in contact with them. When he raises Lilith, they'll be there." He inhaled deeply. "And after that? With the power of Lilith behind him? Who knows who else will join his cause? He wants a war. He's convinced he'll win it, and I'm not sure he won't. For every dark Nephilim he makes, he will grow in power. Add that to the demons he's already made allegiances with, and I don't know if the Clave is prepared to withstand him."  
Clary took her hand off him. He wished she hadn't. "Sebastian never changed. Your blood never changed him. He's exactly like he always was." She looked up at him and his heart broke a little more. "But you. You lied to me, too."  
"He lied to you."  
"I know. I know that Jace isn't you-"  
He cut her off again, trying to hide his desperation for her. He wasn't quite sure he completely succeeded. "He thinks it's for your good and you'll be happier in the end, but he did lie to you. And I would never do that."  
"The aegis" she questioned him. "If it can hurt you but Sebastian can't feel it, could it kill him but not hurt you?"  
How the hell did she still care if he was alive or not? Why wasn't she screaming at him that she hated him, that he's a monster? He shook his head. "I don't think so. If I had an aegis, I might be willing to try, but-no. Our life forces are tied together. An injury is one thing. If he were to die..." Why hadn't Clary killed him? "You know the easiest way to end this. Put a dagger in my heart. I'm surprised you didn't do it while I was sleeping."  
She looked at him with those green eyes of hers, her voice shaking. "Could you? If it were me? I believed there was a way to make this right. I still believe it. Give me your stele, and I'll make a Portal."  
She might still love me.  
"You can't make a Portal from inside here. It won't work. The only way in and out of this apartment is through the wall downstairs, by the kitchen. It's the only place you can move the apartment from, too."  
"Can you move us to the Silent City? If we go back, the Silent Brothers can figure out a way to separate you from Sebastian. We'll tell the Clave his plan so they'll be prepared-"  
"I could move us to one of the entrances. And I will. I'll go. We'll go together." He looked into her beautiful eyes. "But just so there won't be any untruth between us, Clary, you have to know they'll kill me. After I tell them what I know, they'll kill me."  
"Kill you? No, they wouldn't-"  
He had accepted death a long time ago. He'd been on the brink of it more times than one could count. He'd even met it. His voice was gentle when he cut her off. "Clary, as a good Shadowhunter, I ought to volunteer to die to stop what Sebastian is going to do. As a good Shadowhunter, I would."  
Her voice rose, and his heart dropped into his stomach as she tried to cover up the panic in it. "But none of this is your fault. You can't help what's been done to you. You're a victim in this. It's not you, Jace; it's someone else, someone wearing your face. You shouldn't be punished.-"  
"It's not a matter of punishment. It's practicality. Kill me, Sebastian dies. It's no different from sacrificing myself in battle. It's all well and good to say I didn't choose this. It has happened. And what I am now, myself, will be gone again soon enough. And, Clary, I know it doesn't make sense, but I remember it- I remember all of it. I remember walking with you in Venice, and that night at the club, and sleeping in this bed with you, and don't you get it? I wanted this. This is all I ever wanted, to live with you like this, be with you like this. What am I supposed to think, when the worst thing that has ever happened to me gives me exactly what I want? Maybe Jace Lightwood can see all the ways this is wrong and messed-up, but Jace Wayland, Valentine's son... loves this life." He met her eyes with his golden eyes wide. He loved her so much. He would do anything for her. But he had to go now. His Clary. He had to leave his Clary, which broke his heart even more, but she was strong. He thought of Satan when Christ went down to Hades after He died on the cross to proclaim to him and the demons in Tartarus that He'd won. There was nothing he could do. The desperation he must have felt. "And that's why I have to go before this wears off. Before I'm him again."  
"Go where?"  
"To the Silent City. I have to turn myself in-and the Cup, too."


End file.
